Insomniac
by Sobe15
Summary: When Ranger makes a small mistake, it may cost him his life. But thankfully, there is good news to fatal accidents. Like pain meds. And a certain bounty hunter keeping you company.... [CHAPTER 7 FINALLY UP Sorry for hiatus]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** I am not Janet Evanovich, and I did not create any of the characters. I am not making money off this (unforunately -sigh-) and it is just good solid fun between the books and life.

**Note** Ranger's POV. And _yes_ I'm still writing Ten and a Half, but I had this idea swimming in my head so I just decided to spill the guppy and see where it leads.

**Spoilers/Warnings** Nope, none that I forsee.

I woke up to the sound of a car backfiring somewhere below the apartment outside. I had crashed here because it was the closest place, and last night I was plumb tired. Tank and I had just spent the night on stakeout, and the skip didn't even show. Before that, the boys and I had chased some guy that had run a red light, and when the cop pulled him over, it appeared that he had a load of drugs on him. The man shot the cop in the shoulder, and now it was our duty to catch the SOB because the man happened to be someone I knew, had previously caught when he was a first-time skip on a drug possession charge. The police, however legal and trained they were, didn't help all that much. They just didn't have the right _drive_, you know?

And the morning before, I had woken up from a dazzling nightmare at three in the morning, and hadn't gone back to sleep. I was unnerved. I never got nightmares that rattled me that much. I didn't even remember what it was about when I woke up, but I had sat bolt upright. I always thought it was theatrical dramaticity when they did that in the movies, but I guess it actually happens.

After trying for an hour to get back to sleep now, I couldn't, so I got up with a sigh and headed for the shower. I just stood there for a while, halfheartedly trying to remember the dream I had the other night.

Nope, nothing.

A half hour in the shower and I was starting to show signs of pruning, so I turned the water off and started to dress. Today there was a meeting at six-thirty with a new client, and I had to be there. The man was a well-known well-off businessman, and he would do good for our paychecks. Not that we espicially needed it, but hey.

---------------------

During the long boring meeting, I nearly nodded off twice. Lester noticed and looked at me asking for details once, but I just shook my head. Just tired. Nothing wrong with that.

But in my line of business it could be, I thought. Mabye I better get some sleep.

But the client blabbed on, and my men were talking to him back in a drone, and I was losing grip of where the conversation was going. Dammit, I told myself. Get a grip. I snapped myself awake and made myself pay attention. This was going to be a long day.

-----------------------

I had managed to spend the rest of my day remarkably awake, even though I was alone and undisturbed for hours on end. The next time I looked at my clock it was getting on six, and by seven I would be totally done with all my work. Or wait. I was the boss. I could retire early. The papers in front of me could wait, they honestly weren't all that important. With a long sleepy sigh, I lifted myself out of my chair, left the office and locked up, and was heading to the elevator when my cell phone rang.

_Who in the world could that be?_ I thought as I grabbed it from my pocket and looked at the caller ID and gave a small smile. My Babe was calling. And for whatever reason it was, I would be awake for that. My tiredness symptoms had been put on hold for the moment as soon as I saw her name.

"Yo," I said into the mouthpiece.

"Umm...Ranger?" came a reply. I could something was up, because she sounded shaky, unsure. _Oh God, please let it be nothing I can't handle._

"Yeah."

"There's blood in my apartment."

I paused at that, and immediately turned my course back the way I came, heading to the parking garage. This I had to be there for.

"How much?"

"Well...theres a bit on the foyer...than a trail to the couch, and it stops at the closet."

_Dammit_, I thought. _What psyco is after her now?_

"Did you open the closet?" I had a feeling she hadn't.

"No. I thought mabye you could." By now I was in my truck and pulling out of the garage, full speed ahead to her apartment.

"I'll be there in 10," I said then disconnected. With Steph's luck and history of psycotic bastards out to get her, I wasn't going to be all that shocked if there was a body in her closet. But why put a body in a closet, I asked myself? Why not just leave it somewhere where she would be sure to see it first off. Unless the blood was purely meant to terrorize. I couldn't rule that out with my Babe. She had stumbled across a good number of enemies in her time at this job. But she wanted to continue being a bounty hunter, so I continued helping her out. I never wanted her to seriously quit, like Morelli always wants her to. I just want to make her better at the job.

Like I promised, I was in her parking lot in ten minutes, and headed up the stairs to her doorway. She was standing in the hall, shaking slightly, waiting for me. I rested a hand on my gun purely by impulse at the fearful and slightly sick look in her face. This had happened to her too many times. But with her lower lip out like that she looked to damn cute.

I draped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. "Do you want to wait out here or do you want to go in with me?"

She looked up and I already knew the answer. "Okay. I'll only be a minute."

I kissed the top of her head and dropped my arm to my gun and unholstered it. Opening her apartment I let by body shield the sight of the blood trails from her, than slowly stepped over the jamb and closed the door.

She was right. The trail of blood led from the door, past the couch, and stopped at the closet. I pointed my gun inside and wrenched open the door, and looked to the wood-covered ground, _expecting_ to see a body crumpled up on the floor, bleeding profusely.

Boy was I wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** However totally hot, Ranger is not my character, and neither is Steph, or any of the other ones. I am not Janet Evanovich, and never will be.

That is, unless I make a body switching machine, and totally snatch her life and job and riches!

Or I can just sit here and type this fic.

Yeah, let's go with that.

What I _did_ find, however, was a body _standing up_. Or more leaning. On the door. And when I wrenched the door open, I found myself holding up a body of a very heavy, very naked dead guy that had just fallen on me. With a disgusted grunt, I tossed the body faceup on the ground, in which he started to bleed again. I wondered how long it took to totally release the blood you have when you're dead, but it wasn't a major priority.

Just then the door creaked open an inch, and I turned, hand on my gun that had once more retreated to the belt as the guy slid to the floor. Steph's voice rang through the gap, and I dropped my hands to my sides.

"Is everything alright? What was that thud?"

"You don't want to know, Babe."

"That bad?"

"I think you should call the police."

"That bad."

She closed the door once more and I looked around the apartment. The blood was slowing coming from the guy, but it was still all around the living room and corridor. Who could do something this...this...horrifying to a woman's apartment? Espicially a woman like Babe.

The police came in about fifteen minutes later, the time in which I had sat outside the apartment waiting for them with her. She didn't take that well to blood, and despite my efforts to at least get her inside and into her bedroom, she had dug in her heels. I knew this effort all to well now. There was no chance she would get in there willingly with all that blood, and the body in plain view.

Morelli appeared a minute or two behind the official homicide cops. I watched out of the corner of my eye with a mixture of emotions as they embraced. Anger, jealosy, wistfulness...the list went on. He shouldn't be hugging by Babe. That was my Babe. But even I had told her that she should go back to him. My life wasn't suited for relationships like that. It wasn't fair to her that I had to keep up and moving, or leaving for work and meetings, and there was always the constant threat of being shot and killed. And I had made myself a hefty amount of enemies that with a snap of their fingures have a croonie snatch her up as collateral for my appearance, or ransom. There was just too many things that were blocking my way to her, it was just completely unfair.

But I wouldn't change my lifestyle. I, like her, had been accustomed to this life, and it is what I knew, what I liked, and what I was good at.

The police were in her apartment, and I got up to follow them and explain. It seemed that the man had several large, assumingly, knife wounds in his stomach and back and chest. No wonder he was bleeding so much, there was nothing to keep the blood in.

We finished a little after nine, and she went to spend the night with Morelli. She was incredibly distracted, and she didn't say goodbye or thank you to me as she left. This had me downtrodden, but I could excuse it. She had a dead body in her apartment and blood trails that would bother any normal sane person. But the fact that she was with Morelli, and what they could possibly do tonight...

Despite the knowledge that Morelli was a nice guy and he loved her didn't lessen my feelings. I loved her too. But I wasn't going to marry her, and that was more than likely the only love that ever mattered to a woman.

But God was I exhausted now. This emotional draining felt almost as tiring as the staying up nearly two whole days. And as I walked into my truck, alone, I leaned against the cool metal, and turned my attention up the the apartment. A few policemen were still there, and the lights were still on. Nothing else here for me. I guess it's time to go.

-----------------------

Once again, the apartment over the offices was closer, so I drove there and parked in the slot closest to the door. I keyed the elevator up to the seventh floor and as soon as I opened the door I unlaced my boots, stripped, and landed under the covers with a bounce. This was two days wide awake, and I hoped to make this sleep at least a full seven hours.

However, my sleep was turbulent. I kept waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I was having nightmares again, and this time I could clearly remember them.

She was kidnapped, and I couldn't find her trail. Then a scream pierced the night, and I knew it was her. And she was dead. And I couldn't do a damn thing to bring her back.

And then she was here, on my couch, watching TV with me. I was holding onto her tight with one arm, posessive, then the door opened to Morelli. He saw us then raised a gun and pulled the trigger...

And the last one wasn't about her. It was just me, and I was all alone. I didn't know where I was, or who was keeping me there. The silence was deafening, and I knew I had been in the darkness a long time.

After the last nightmare, I decided I really didn't want to have another one. Deeply regretful, I pulled myself out of bed, not daring to check the clock. Whatever the time, I would be outside running, beating out the nighttime fears and the self-doubt. I would be regenerized, refreshed, and hopefully I could make it through another day.

So when I got back, I took a shower, changed, and went down to work. I holed myself up in my office and stared at the papers for an hour of attentiveness. The second and later hours were spent trying to remember how to read and keep my eyes focused. Two and a half days without sleep. Tonight, no distractions. I was going to sleep. Babe wouldn't need me. She had Morelli. She thought Morelli could keep her better than I could, so that's how I let her think.

If only she knew it was tearing me up inside.

-----------------------

At five PM I headed off to the office to see what else I could do with my time. I parked my mercedes on the curb of the street and remoted it locked, than strode inside. I knew what was awaiting me, because I saw an ever-so-familiar powder blue buick outside as well.

And there she was, looking through a file and standing with her back to the door. I entered and the eyes of the two other women in the office looked up, and Stephanie only looked up to watch them watch me. I wonder if Connie and Lula ever get bored with becoming total coon dog when I walk in the room, but my attention is fully on Stephanie. I rest a hand on the base of her neck and she looked over to me with a small smile.

"Any new FTAs for me, Connie?" I said and she hurriedly turned and grabbed two files. I checked them both out immediately, and noted that if I got both I would gain myself a pretty penny...or a hefty amount more. I thanked her and nodded, and brushed Stephanie's shoulder as I turned to leave. She turned in my direction as I was leaving, but I didn't stop. I was already too affected by this encounter, I didn't need to do anything else that would bring me to close to her. I wouldn't be able to contain myself if I was around that beautiful woman too long.

One of the FTAs, Shale Velote, was charged for armed robbery. He was packing serious heat, the file exclaimed as I saw four different weapons that the cops had confiscated on him. He also seemed pretty doped up, but you can never underestimate these guys. Espicially when he had a gun pointed at several tellers and fired several shots into the glass seperating them. He had barely escaped before the cops ran him off the road and cuffed him.

_How_ Vinnie the weasel would bail this SOB out, I had no clue. But than again, Vinnie would do completely odd things when it was a promise of money for him. He got really stressed when his FTAs weren't being apprehended, but the BEAs that work for him normally just shrug him off. At least, Stephanie and I do.

The other was Alec Mannion, who was a serial rapist. The police had reason to suspect that he had killed a few women, but no evidence ever made the full journey to the courthouse, oddly enough. Witnesses had a habit of dissapearing. And now he was MIA.

I picked up my cell and called Tank.

"Yeah?" he asked when he picked up.

"Grab Lester and Bobby. We're going on a stakeout."

-------------------------

So that's where we were. I decided to go after the rapist, first, because there was the possibility of another rape higher than the probability of another bank robbery that the police could handle. Tank and I were in a borrowed LaSabre, and Lester and Bobby were watching the back of the row house in a similar vehicle. I was having a hard time focusing, and the sun was promising to set. We had spent two and a half hours doing nothing.

I had only asked the guys to go on stakeout with me because the police file also mentioned an amazing list of arsenal in the rapist's posession and house. Most of the weapons were certified and verified, but the ones that weren't were whisked away. And, the man might of picked up more since he left, breaking bail, but that's just a small factor when the police got him again.

By seven thirty-seven, we saw a newer-looking silver Honda Civic pull into Alec's driveway. I tensed my sleepy muscles and strained my eyes to see the man coming out of the car, and by the light of the sunset, I could see a sandy-haired discreetly-muscled man who looked like he could fit the description. I grasped my cell and called Lester.

"He's in. Stand backup." I said then disconnected. Tank and I crept out of the LaSabre, and I grasped my gun with one hand as I knocked on the door. I would try the standard approach, and if he showed any sign of negative reactions to being hauled to the slammer, I would haul my weapon, point, and _make_ him go. If that meant slamming him to the floor and twisting his arms around, than that wasn't really my fault nor my problem.

Alec opened his door a crack and looked at me and Tank up and down. "What?"

"Mr. Mannion, you missed your court date."

He scoffed and slammed the door, but it landed on my foot. Oh well. They hardly ever go the way it's supposed to. I liked the 'interior decorating' jobs more. I could bang the door open, start yelling, and round the people up. Here, being a BEA, I had to go by the book.

Well, okay. _My_ book.

I shoved the door open with my other hand and Alec stumbled. My adrenaline was high, and there was no falling asleep feelings here. Nope, not one.

Okay, I was constantly tired, but this was the thrill of the hunt we're talking about here. This is the best part.

I had Mannion to the floor and was just about to cuff him when he twisted under my grip and kicked out with his feet. I caught a shoe to the knee and growled angrily. With one free hand I shoved him back on the ground and hit his head on the floor, so he would be momentarily stunned. And it worked. I was able to get the other cuff on him and I shoved him to Tank, who was waiting with Lester. Bobby, I assmed, was gaurding the back door.

"Great. That was fun." Lester said as he looked at me. "We didn't even do anything."

"You want to get the takedown next time?" I said getting up out of my crouch.

"I want to smack some sonnavabich around, man! Just waiting for two and a half hours than doing nothing. That's a total rip!"

I gave a small resigned smile. "We have one more to go to tonight. I had planned on getting to him tomorrow, but he might be halfway to Florida by then. Lets get him tonight while he's probably still here."

That was fine by all of us. Sleep would come after, when I felt the rewards of sucess. Then I wouldn't have the nightmares, I hoped. I would feel good, and sleep would come easy.

Right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** None of the main shmexy characters are mine. Both Alec and Shale can be dumped on the side of a road.

**Note** I want a lovely bunch of coconuts! Where could I find one of these a-love-a-ly bunch of coconuts? Why don't I have a lovely bunch of coconuts?

As we pulled into the street where the file said Velote lived, I saw no lights were on. Checking the clock on the dashboard I noticed that it was nearly eight. Sleep was tugging at my eyes, and I was exhausted. I kept telling myself that just this one more skip would set my mind at ease, than I could have a full night of nightmare-less sleep. I had been awake almost three days in a row, and even the thrill of the capture was hardly doing anything to help my skills.

"Hey man, you OK?" Tank said from beside me.

I gave a small nod of response. Tank snorted and continued.

"You've been close to falling asleep every time I see you lately. Have you been getting enough rest?"

"I'm _fine_, Tank" I said, mabye a little more harsh than I intended it to. Tank silenced then, but I was fully aware that he didn't think the matter was settled. I didn't really care. We had and FTA to go after.

There was no car in the driveway of Shale Velote's house, but a light was on and glowing in the downstairs living room. I assumed it was the TV. The curtains were drawn tight but the material hardly passed for blackout curtains, and I was assured he or at least someone that knew him was at home. Funny, the file didn't say he was married. I didn't think twice on that one. Normally, armed robbers and potential murderers don't make good husbands. Just a suggestion.

We angled out of the truck and in the back, I saw Lester and Bobby do the same. They waited in the backyard, waiting for my bursting open of the door. When Tank and I had dropped off Mannion at the police station, they continued on to here, staking the house out, making sure that he wouldn't get away.

Because he was more than likely armed to the teeth, I knocked on the door with gun poised, vision blurred, and waited for him to open up. I felt drunk, but my nerves were intact, and that had always seen me through. I had a Kevlar vest on, and my gun was off saftey and in my hands, gun poised on the trigger. I was ready.

No one came to the door, and I knocked once more before kicking the door down. There on the couch, correctly armed with a pocketknife, a Glock, and a long gun I had a sinking, suspicious feeling was one of the guns that had escaped the grasps of us in the chaos that was the 'Uncle Mo' fiasco. The damn ones that would pierce police armor. Unfortunately, that was the one he had in his hands, and that was the one he had pointed at me. His finger was on the trigger, and I raised my gun to shoot, but there was one large man with one blurry outline, and I couldn't make out where his vitals were. I couldn't help it. I blinked my eyes roughly, and shot, but I missed, and that was all Velote needed. He aimed the gun to my heart, fired, and shot.

I grunted in pain as he sent another one that hit my lower shoulder, and only vaugely noticed Tank firing his own gun at the man, and then all shots stilled. I was crumpled on the floor, clutching my chest with my good arm, and recognized that I was bleeding hard. I barely had time to think as dots flashed before my eyes.

This hurt like hell. I hadn't been shot here before. Just various places near it. My legs, arms, even my side had been shot, but no where this close to my heart.

"Shit!" Tank said somewhere close, above me.

_Oh God,_ I thought._ I'm dying._ That was my last concious thought as I fell on the floor, breathing dangerously shallow.

**----------------------**

**Steph's POV**

When I got the news, I think my heart stopped. Ranger...

I never thought he could be dying in the hospital. That was usually my reality. Ranger was indistructable. Ranger was Batman. Ranger was Rambo. Hell, Ranger was even Big Blue. But Ranger wasn't going to die.

He couldn't. No matter how bad (or good) my denial was, I could never think of a life without Ranger in it. I could never be a bounty hunter if Ranger wasn't there. I never _would _of been a bounty hunter if Ranger wasn't there.

Ranger was one of my best friends. He wasn't going to die.

I had heard the news from Morelli. It appeared that a skip got the best of him, but now the skip was dead. I supposed he got shot either from Ranger before he went down, or another of his merry men. Tank and Bobby and Lester were there, and they had immediately carted him off to the hospital. The police had arrived to find the FTA dead, and Bobby pacing roughly through the house. He was told to stay there to talk to the police while Ranger was carried and speeded to the hospital.

I couldn't help my reaction. I backed down to the couch and put my head between my knees and stayed there for a few minutes. Morelli had gotten a call on his cell, and stepped into the other room to receive it. I didn't even here him talking to whoever it was. I was busy thinking about Ranger, and how he was probably dying in the hospital. The gun had pierced his vest, and had continued on through his upper left chest.

This was incredibly vital. I couldn't believe someone could surivive that.

So that clinched it. I grabbed my pocketbook and sprinted outside and leaped into Big Blue, and raced off towards the hospital. I needed to see if he was alright. I needed to see if he needed me.

---------------------

When I got there I jogged into the lobby, and asked the receptionist where they were keeping him. I forgot to breathe, and I also forgot a very important detail, his name, but the receptionist knew who I was talking about.

"He's on the fifth floor, but he's in critical condition. They aren't letting anyone other than family mem-"

I didn't need to hear any more. I pushed through the doors and despite the receptionist's calls of "Miss! Miss!" I took the stairs two at a time to the fifth floor.

Despite my clenched breaths, I had just ran up five flights of stairs, so I was pretty winded. The elevator, which I had considered too slow at the time, was now getting to look more and more appealing. But when I reached the fifth floor and passed the waiting room, I couldn't help but see a large black guy sitting in a seat, head in his hands, elbows on his knees.

"Tank?"

Tank looked up and his features were creased and full of worry, but they brightened when he saw me. He stood up in a flash and hugged me in a big bear hug, which I thought was a little weird because Tank didn't seem the hugging kind. He quickly ended the embrace and looked at me at arms length. It was then that I asked him.

"How's Ranger?"

His look went back to the worried friend and he turned to look down the corridor. "Not good. The bullet was just an inch and a half above his heart. If it was any lower..."

I cringed and he didn't finish. We both knew what would happen if it went any lower.

"I mean, I always thought Ranger was immortal." Tank said offhandedly. "Not really of course, but he was always the tough guy. He never got hurt like this."

I decided it wasn't the best time to mention that this was the most Tank had ever said to me. "How did he let that bastard shoot him, Tank?" I asked steadily. That was a total un-Rangerlike thing to do.

Tank looked like he was contemplating the answer, than he said quickly, like he just remembered, "He's been tired lately. I don't think he's been getting any sleep."

_Shit._ Shit shit and double _shit_. I had kept him up till nine the other night, mabye later. I racked my brains then, and remembered he looked tired, but I was so wound up in my own problems that I hadn't noticed. And, with an extra kick in the gut, I remembered that I hadn't even told him I was going off with Morelli, never thanked him for being there in the first place.

And now he was in there, slowly dying...

_Shit!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** Stephanie, shmexi Ranger, Tank, and all them good guys are not mine. I just steal them, use them for my own personal delightment, then return them when no one's looking.

**Note** Ranger's gonna DIE! AHAHAHAHA! Or not. Do you believe me? Read on.

Real short chapter, but here it's nearly one in the morning. I can't think. A longer one next time.

Promise!

ShOuToUt-ness!

To all my wonderful reviewers. You're the only reason I continue to write this story!

_wanttowrite _- Yeah...if we had it from Ranger's POV throughout we'd have one boring fic. He'd be unconcious through it all!

_Swapneshwari _- ebil grin It's _fun_ being mean!

_house-of-insanity _- I love you! huggles

And everyone else in which I don't have the time, energy, or creativity to praise you individually. But keep the reviews coming, and don't burn me at the stake for the shorter-than-normal chapter.

**Steph's POV**

Tank and I waited in the waiting room for a few more hours. He said that Bobby and Lester were covering it all over with the police, and then they were going to bed. They hadn't wanted to, but Tank put his foot down, saying Ranger needed peace, and the guys could come early morning. Screw visiting hours.

Three hours after I arrived, a nurse came out and asked to speak with Tank. Alone. Dammit. As if I wasn't family enough. They took a few minutes, and from where they were standing, I could see Tank's face. I searched desperately for a hint of relief, but if anything, his face got more sour.

When the nurse was apparently finished, Tank ambled over and sat heavily on the chair next to me, reassuming his first stance, head in hands, elbows on knees.

And as much as I'm not one to disturb moments, I needed to know what was going on.

"Tank?" I said lightly. "How's Ranger?"

He looked up, eyes clouded. If he were a normal person, I'm sure tears would be spilling. But, as it had been shown, Tank was not a norm. My heart sank.

"They say he might not come out of whatever he slipped in to. It's not a coma, but he's not waking up. And he's all tense all the time; they even gave him a muscle relaxer, and he's all shaky. They can't do anything else for him. We can just hope he wakes up soon."

At least he didn't die. God, please don't let him die.

And then I started making promises to the good lord above that if he made it, I would stop being such a pain. I would learn to use and shoot the damn gun, and I would not be afraid of it. I would stop calling on Ranger for everything. I would let him sleep. I would go to church for once, for goodness sakes! And I would. At least once.

Another hour passed in silence and we didn't get another word. I spent most of my time staring out the wall-length window that showed the city of Trenton at night. It was late. Really late. But I didn't have a watch and I had left my cell phone on the counter back at Morelli's. So I decided to go on a quest for a clock. Why don't they have those things in every waiting room? It should be mandatory. It would be helpful.

But I forgot. The hospital staff try not to be helpful to the waiting people. At least all the one's I've came into contact with.

I slipped away when no one was looking and walked down the white sterile corridor. Down the way was a doubledoors and a white luminous sign flashing ICU in block letters. My heart did a flipflop. Ranger must be in there. Slowly dying, and not allowed visitors.

Well, damn. The only way these people were going to get better is with people they know and love in contact with them. Even if they're not concious.

I looked over my shoulders, but saw no one. This time of night no one was really active and out or about. So I would just slip in...see if I could see Ranger's room...peek in.

I pushed open the doors carefully and held my breath, then stepped over the threshold. No one came after me, so I took a few steps into the ICU unit and ducked past the little receptionist desk. The lady that was sitting there was deep into her computer work, turned away from me. I made no sounds as I went past her and turned to the left, to the rooms.

Peeking into every one on the sides of the hallway, I finally saw a familiar face in room 8. I held my breath and bit my lip hard seeing him hooked up to an IV, a blood machine, and several other beeping, lit machines. His torso was bandaged heavily, and even through the hospital clothes it was evident. He didn't show any blood, but with bandages like that, you could tell he had lost alot, which was why he was hooked up to the blood IV.

He looked so critical, I had a hard time stiffling my sobs. I reached my hand up and placed it on the glass on the door that I was looking through. This stupid piece of wood and glass was the only thing seperating me and him.

Genius, Stephanie.

I looked over my shoulders to an empty hall, and turned the silver lever, pushed the door open without a sound, and stepped in, closing the door silently behind me.

I crept over to his side and rested my hand on the metal side of the bed they use so you don't fall out. He shuffled a little. I guessed he was sleeping, even though he was probably unconcious as well. He was tense, very tense. The nurse was right. Damn.

I stood there looking at him in silent dispair for a few minutes, until I stiffened. The door had made a sound.

Before I could turn and see who was at the door, I heard a voice say

"I thought you'd be here."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer **My name is not Janet Evanovich. And if I _were_ Janet Evanovich, I wouldn't be typing this fic.

I would be spending my time writing out book twelve for all you hungry waiters, and figuring out a way to get Steph out of the Morelli relationship before she becomes a burg housewife. -nods-

**Note** Thanks to my loyal reviewers on this new story. If yall didn't post those, I wouldn't have the muse to continue!

I spun around ready to apologize profusely but caught my breath as I realized it was only Tank.

_Thank God!_

"Tank...what are you doing?"

"Thought you'd be here," he said agian with a hint of a shrug. "You didn't say where you were going."

"Sorry. I was going to find the time, but then I passed the ICU..." I didn't need to say more, and we both knew it.

Tank held out his right fist. "You could of asked me. I have a watch."

"Oh." Yeah, I could've. But you didn't look like you should be bothered. You were zenning.

"It's almost midnight. Visiting hours were over since ten."

Uh-oh. Wait, how did me manage that?

In reply to my unanswered question, Tank shrugged. "They know Ranger. They know he would want us here...when he wakes up."

I looked into his eyes. He was going to say 'if he wakes up' but caught himself. I narrowed my eyes ever so slightly and said with determination "He _will _wake up. And I'll be there when he does."

And then I grabbed a chair and wheeled it over to the side of the bed, and plopped down.

Tank stared for a few beats than he needed to, than pulled out one of his own and sat. And eventually the sound of bleeping monitors cast me into a fitful disturbed sleep.

When I awoke, it was still dark, and the monitors had continued to beep. The only light that we could see by was the faint florescent bar light above the bed, and it casted shadows around the room. I shifted in my seat and turned to see if Tank was still there, but he and his chair had vanished.

I thought that was a little weird, because I would of figured Tank would stay the whole time here if he could've. He seemed clearly rattled at the fact that Ranger was in the hospital, more or less unconcious and suffering. But if he left, he must of had a good reason. I mean, there was still a company to run, even if the boss and namesake was out of the picture for a _limited_ time.

I waited and sat in the uncomfortable hard seat for what seemed like hours until the sun was well up. I was starting to get hungry, but I knew I needed to stay here. Ranger seemed to be doing a bit better. He wasn't tensed like he was last night, but he was still unconcious, and his breath was wispy and almost nonexistant.

I stood suddenly and walked carefully over to the side of the bed. He had moved slightly in his sleep, and his IVs were straining with the new distance. I placed a hand over his and squeezed minimally, assuring him I would stay, until he was better. Than I carefully set his arm back so the IV would reach and supply his blood, trying not to stretch the stitches that were in place.

From behind I heard the door creep open. I had a momentary shock then I realized that it could of been Tank. I turned and gave him a small smile, but stopped.

This person wasn't Tank. It was a woman, with darker skin, black hair, and a slim figure. She looked surprised that I was here, but made her way to the bed where I was standing, and reached out her hand.

"Hello," she said in a pleasant but worried voice with a hint of a Spanish accent. "I'm Ric's sister, Solita. Who are you?"

She obviously wasn't filled in before she came in. I wondered how she got in, because Ranger was still in critical condition, and not allowed visitors. Nevertheless, I grabbed her hand and shook it, and replied "I'm Stephanie. I work with...Ric."

"Oh! I know who you are now. Ranger talks about you all the time."

This brought a raised eyebrow on my part, and Solita gave me a small smile. Since when does Ranger talk about me to family? I decided to stay silent at this new bit of information. Best not to make a moron of myself to the only family member of Ranger's that I have met.

"How is he?" she asked next, and I turned to look at the man behind me with a small, barely perceptible sigh.

"He's doing better than he was last night, but the shots were critical. If one of them were any lower, he'd be dead now."

See, denial only works only so long. I preferred at the moment to be thankful that he wasn't dead, so I admitted to myself a few hours ago that he would of been dead, but by an act of the god of second chances, he will live to see another day. Good theory, right? And I was sure it was the one in play now.

Solita gave a nod and walked over to the other side of the bed where Tank had seemingly placed the other chair when he left in the night. She looked up at the IVs and the blood machines and the heart-bleepers and looked like she was carefully considering something. I watched her for a minute before she caught my gaze and explained herself.

"I'm studying medicine back home. These look like the right things to use in this scenario. But I haven't really been up to this level of my studies yet."

I nodded, saying I understood. But I couldn't know less about medicinal techniques other than I use asprin as directed and you need ice to make physical hurts go away.

Solita continued on, a questioning look on her face, and asked me, "How long have you been here?"

"Since late yesterday."

"You can leave now if you need to do anything. I can stay, and some of my family is flying in today to check up on him."

I didn't expect this. And as much as I wanted to see Ranger's family and stay by his bedside, I really had to feed Rex, check on Morelli, and find something to eat. Also, the prospect of staying in a room one-on-one with his sister didn't really appeal to me. What would we talk about?

"Allright. But I'll be back."

And then I gave one last look to the unconcious Ranger, pushed my chair back to the wall, and was out the door.

No one was at the desk as I left, which was good. As I waltzed into the waiting room, I couldn't help but ask the receptionist a question.

"Is Ricardo Manoso accepting visitors today?"

The lady looked up at me then glanced at a chart on a clipboard next to the computer screen. She gave a nod and replied

"Yes, he is dear. But his visiting hours are from twelve to three only. Come back later."

Hmm. Mabye this sister of his learned some sneaking skills from the man himself, I thought as I passed into the hallway and glanced at the clock. Eight AM.


	6. Chapter 6

**for some reason, chapter six had been replaced with a duplicate of chapter five. i apologize for this, but basically, stephanie meets solita more, and ranger wakes up.**

**i will redo this chapter when i have time, but for now, i hope this will do.**

**apologies,**

**Sobe15**

_thank you boo23 for bringing this to my attention_


	7. Chapter 7

_To all my old reviewers and readers...Miss me:) Sorry for loooooong absense. And sorry for out of touch writing skills. But the latest book has prompted me to write this fic again, and if you guys aren't totally P.O'd at me for deserting yall, I'll keep writing it._

**Disclaimer **- Although I am also an awesome wonderful can't-get-enough-of-me person, I am not the great Janet Evanovich, and do not own any of the characters that I write about. Well, okay...the family. But they're really not all that important. Still wants Ranger

**-----------------**

_Before I could speak again, I heard the doors to the hallway open and shut. Looking up, it was a hispanic woman, early twenties, that was heading towards us. Another hundred-watt smile was on her face. No, make that a 200-watt smile, I thought as she stopped in front of Solita and me._

_"He's awake."_

My heart stopped twice as the woman beamed at the two of us. Neither Solita or I moved for a full second and a half before we both got up and started to ask questions. Well, Solita asked the questions. I was too busy thanking God and listening to all the details.

"When?"

"Just a few minutes ago," said the hispanic woman. "He is up and talking. Nicolás is in there still with the doctors. They told me to tell you and wait out here until we are allowed back inside."

"Thank God" I heard Solita say and she plopped down on those uncomfortable hospital seats, resting her head on the back of her hand.

The nameless woman smiled brightly as she watched Solita take a seat. Her brown eyes flashed brilliantly as she turned and noticed me, outstretching a cleverly-manicured hand.

"And you must be Stephanie! Solita has told me you were here earlier. I'm sure Carlos would delight in knowing you were here for him."

I took her hand and shook it, trying not to look bewildered. The woman must have picked up on my confusion, however, because she opened her mouth in silent surprise and exclaimed

"¡Mi Dios! I'm sorry, I forgot my manners. I am Celia, Carlos' sister."

I had only assumed that she had been related in some way, but I do believe that I have heard that title before, out of Ranger's mouth, one day. I had just never expected to meet the person behind the name.

"Oh yes, I know you...Carlos said something about you once."

It felt awkward calling Ranger 'Carlos'. But I still wasn't sure how to talk of him to these women. Of course they were siblings, but how much of his private life did they know? Best to go with what you hear, Stephanie. Try not to make an ass out of yourself.

"I'm not surprised that it was only once," Celia said, shaking her head. I grinned, almost sheepishly, as Solita chimed in,

"Oh no, you should have seen her face when I said who I was. I'm not sure she even believed me at first. Shows you how much Carlos talks about us, huh?"

Celia laughed and the two sisters smiled at each other knowingly, leaving me lost and wordless. I didn't have to wait long, however, when another hispanic-looking man came out of ICU and made way directly to our fun little group. Both Solita and Celia were on their feet talking to him, but I was resting on the chair beside them, listening in. I knew about family time. Like whenever my sister came over and it wasn't a chaotic mess, I still enjoyed having her around to chat with once in awhile. Once in awhile.

"He's up and talking," said the man. "He even socked me one right in the stomach because I told him the family was coming in to see him."More laughs. I smiled. That was Ranger for you. He continued, "I guess he didn't want them worrying. The doctors have him loaded with pain meds, so he's kinda out of it now, but the wound in his chest looked kinda bad, and that was even under the bandages. He should be fine, though. But one of us will have to stay with him in case he tears his stitches."

Awkward glances passed through the three. I wasn't sure how to read these expressions, but it didn't seem as if any of them wanted to, or possibly could stay with Ranger. They had lives outside Trenton, I knew such from the minimal chatting I had been listening to.

"I have to go back to school this evening..." began Solita, looking down.

"I have a meeting I can't miss at four..." responded Celia, also adverting her eyes.

"Well I can't stay either. I have to get home to 'Ranza before she kills me," the male said, crossing his arms in thought. "Well damn, someone has to stay. He's our brother."

Ah, I thought. Then this _must_ be Nicolás. The group seemed to be thinking hard of other people to stay, but Ranger's mother, father, grandmother, and youngest sisters were definately not the Rangersitting type, they concluded. And from general observation, I myself concluded that Grandma Rosa was crazy, Mama Ana wasn't to far from the tree, and Papa Carlos would just basically say if it wasn't a fatal shot then why bother. But that was only spec. I bet on brighter times, Ranger's family would be as sane as mine.

Oh God.

"I could stay with him,"I interrupted, standing up and joining the party. Nicolás looked at me strangely for a minute, but at the wordless reassurances by both Solita and Celia, he seemed to get it and smiled brightly at me.

"Stephanie," he said and held his hand out to me. "Nicolás. Carlos' brother. Nice to have finally met you."

I shook it, putting aside the fact that he knew me as well, even without introduction. "Likewise. And I can stay with him, it's no bother to me. He doesn't live that far from where I do. It would be no problem at all."


End file.
